


Gold Dust

by floatingkhoshekfloats



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Boyfriends, Fluff, M/M, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-05
Updated: 2016-05-05
Packaged: 2018-06-06 15:07:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6758974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/floatingkhoshekfloats/pseuds/floatingkhoshekfloats
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In Which Steve Takes a Bus and Has an Unexpected Meeting, or In Which I Write Stucky for the First Time Ever, or In Which Steve Takes a Nap that Does Not Involve Ice</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gold Dust

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nightwing11](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nightwing11/gifts).



Steve had to admit, he was glad that, for the mission’s sake, he was riding a Greyhound bus. He had nothing against planes--though plenty of people assumed he did, given his track record--and didn’t mind driving hours alone in a car. But something about a bus. The way everyone was a little anonymous, even an internationally recognized superhero in ball cap and a dark hoodie. Everyone in their own worlds, staring out the window, staring into a book. And somehow it felt archaic, to other people, traveling on a bus. But it made the distance between the halves of Steve’s life seem a little closer together. 

People on Greyhounds always seemed to be escaping somehow, to and from. He could understand that. The feeling of escape. After all, wasn’t he always trying escape from his mistakes, his failures, his losses, piling up like too much snow that won’t stop falling? And at the same time wasn’t he always escaping to somewhere...else? Somewhere that erased everything but the moment.

Steve stretched back against the seat, his large body protesting at the confinement of the small seats. Four more hours to go. Then complete the mission and then, finally, home, to his street, to his apartment, to his Bucky. 

Leaving Bucky made the long-term missions the worst. But Buck had his own missions to complete, and they’d always meet up again, fast and firm hugs that confirmed they were both alive and real, slow and sweet kisses that made up for lost time, and then passing out in a tangled pile on the bed without even showering or changing clothes. Steve smiled at the memory of their reunions, of the breakfasts the next day that always ended in a grocery trip for more pancakes. Days they got to be just what they were, a couple. Not superheroes, not anything else.

The Greyhound hissed and squealed a little as it slowed, pulling up to a rest stop. Steve did a brief assessment of the area, then tugged his hat over his eyes to try to sleep. 

“Hey punk,” a familiar low voice said from beside him.

Steve turned his head to the aisle seat next to him, raising the brim of his hat just enough to--

“Buck?” He sat up. “What are you doing here?”

Bucky put a finger to his lips and winked. “I’m not. You’re on a mission, remember?”

“So were you,” Steve said.

Bucky shrugged. “What can I say? I’m good.” He smirked, then jerked his head toward Steve’s ensemble. “Nice sweatshirt.”

Steve had to laugh. Bucky too wore a ball cap and dark hoodie, his black to Steve’s blue. Funny, but Steve didn’t remember specifically grabbing a blue sweatshirt. Apparently it was habit. 

“I guess it’s the incognito superheroes starter pack,” he joked. 

Bucky snorted, settling back against the seat as the bus jolted and wheezed forward. “How long you stuck on this deathtrap?”

“Four more hours.”

“Mm. That’s rough.”

Steve somehow raised one eyebrow and lowered the other. “Yeah. Too bad I don’t have any company.”

Bucky glanced at him sideways. “I’m not here, remember?”

“Alright then. You gonna not kiss me already then?”

“Nope.”

“No?”

“Definitely not.”

Steve bobbed his head, lips pursed in a ‘that’s how it is’ kind of way. Then he leaned over and kissed Bucky. Not much, not long--Captain America had respect for keeping public displays of affection to a minimum; Natasha had taught him that much--but enough, enough to bring a smile onto Bucky’s still haggard face. 

“Good to see you too, punk,” Bucky said, then shuffled sideways, laying his head on Steve’s shoulder, stretching his legs out in the aisle, looking for all the world like he was going to take a nap.

Steve might have ordinarily protested at the slight response, the for granted feel of their reunion with none of its usual mesh of worry and relief, but this felt so...normal, like Bucky had been on the bus all along, stepping off for a stretch of the legs, and returning right back to where he’d always been. It was nice, his head on Steve’s shoulder, both of their fingers wound together, and that Buck was sleeping, or considering it, in a public place. He was relaxed, at ease. 

And so was he, Steve realized. For the next four hours, the mission didn’t exist. For the next four hours, it was nothing but ordinary togetherness. Steve smiled, placing a soft kiss on Bucky’s temple.

“Sap,” Bucky muttered with a smile.

Steve wrapped his arm around his boyfriend. “Oh, go to sleep,” he chided, holding Buck close.

Bucky nestled in closer and it didn’t take long before they both did, content.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> If you're interested in original work and other fic, feel free to visit my tumblr: floating-khoshek-floats.tumblr.com


End file.
